


Maiden's Gun

by aryastarkstits



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, F/M, It's Present, Menstruation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Masturbation, Recreational Drug Use, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 16:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryastarkstits/pseuds/aryastarkstits
Summary: "Gendry m’love, if we got rid of all the pricks that wanted to stick their pricks in m’lady, where would you go for after-school drinks?”Maiden's Day is an ancient holy day in the Faith of the Seven during which Westerosi maidens sing songs of innocence and celebrate their purity.





	Maiden's Gun

Gendry was over an hour late to meet Arya and the rest at the pub to celebrate Maiden’s Day. As he stepped through the door, he braced himself for a tirade, maybe even a couple of slaps to his chest if she was particularly cross.

To his surprise though, when he finally spotted Arya she was smiling at him. He kept his eyes on hers, avoiding the tits he caught a glimpse of in his periphery as they threatened to spill from her black top.

“Gendry!” Arya launched herself into his arms, not for the first time but for the first time in years. She’d become considerably less tactile as they grew up. Her legs went around his waist and she snuggled into his shoulder. Grateful for the muscle memory that kept him upright as Arya slammed into him, Gendry savored the feeling of her pressed up against him. “You missed the hymns! There were strippers! They were sexy and they had confetti guns!”

Arya let her feet drop to the floor. She leaned back, hanging off his neck and he got a better look at her. The big plastic confetti that was all over the pub was all over her, stuck in her hair, to her arms, in her cleavage.

Her mouth hung open slightly, jaw tensing before a great big grin spread across her face. Her pupils were blown creepy wide, eating up every bit of her grey iris.

“This is Gendry!” Arya introduced him to Hot Pie, who he and Arya had both known as long as they had known each other, and Margaery, who had “dated” his uncle before the two had both come out. “Y’know, you’re like a welcome mat. A girl could just plop down on your face.”

“Yeah.” Gendry pulled her hands away from his beard, afraid she’d rub her palms raw if left to her own devices. He addressed their friends, “What did she take?”

Hot Pie and Margaery exchanged an unsure look.

“We don’t know,” Margaery pressed her drink against her forehead.

“You don’t know?”

“Her creepy friend—,” Gendry interrupted Hot Pie.

“Jaqen.”  _That fuck._

“Yeah, Jack In, gave her a pill and she took it and now,” Arya had taken to rubbing her face against Gendry’s t-shirt, “well, you see her.”

“So Jaqen, the creepy forty year old that’s been sniffing around Arya for months, gives her a mystery pill and the two of you just, stand there?” Gendry wanted to rip his hair out from the roots. As though she had read his thoughts, Arya broke her hands free from his and wove them into his hair. She threaded her fingers through the strands, tugging, sly little grin on her lips. He looked at her, soft smile on his face, and fought the urge to groan. “How did he even get in here? Ros, I thought I said he needed to be blacklisted.

“Look, if we blacklisted every guy that came sniffing around Arya, there’d be nobody left to pull pints for except Joffrey and Professor Baelish. And they’re both banned on principle. Not that those stuck up fucks would ever be spotted around here.” Ros leaned over the bar. “Besides, Gendry m’love, if we got rid of all the pricks that wanted to stick their pricks in m’lady, where would you go for after-school drinks?”

“I don’t want to—,” Gendry broke off, distracted by Arya pressing open mouthed kisses to the ribbed collar of his t-shirt.

Hot Pie and Margaery were both looking at the bar, slack-jawed, but when Gendry glanced over his shoulder all he saw was Ros wiping down the pitted wood.

“What are the two of you staring at?” He asked, mostly uncaring as Arya rubbed her jean-clad arse against his cock. He was five parts concern to four parts arousal and one part giving a shit about whatever had Hot Pie and Margaery so thoroughly bamboozled.

Margaery snapped out of her trance and gave him a hard look for a second before laughing that rich girl “I’m so much better than you” laugh that he hated.

“Honestly, Waters, if you didn’t have such a hard-on for Arya, I’d think you were gay!”

“I feel like there’s some kind of homophobic implication to that.”

“Says the only hetero here.” Margaery rolled her eyes and walked away, Hot Pie trailing behind her.

“Gendry,” Arya said, voice small, “I’m hot.”

_Well, yeah, duh._

“C’mon, Arya, I’ll take you to the toilet and we can splash some water on your face. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah, my face.” Arya rubbed her own cheek, pressing up with enough force that her eye closed into a wink.

“Don’t get come on my shirt!” Margaery called from the bar.

“Fuck off,” he shot over his shoulder. Gendry half drug, half carried Arya to the toilets as she continued to rub against his shirt.

He knew Arya was bright, she had finished with that snotty girls’ school a year early and could talk circles around anyone, but she sure could be fucking dumb.

She was too open, too eager to make friends. Arya liked to tease him, tell him he was just a grumpy old man and if he was a bit friendlier like her he wouldn’t have to deal with her shit all the time. Well, if she were a bit more like him she wouldn’t be rolling in the toilet of a pub in Fleabottom on Maiden’s Day.

“Stay.” Gendry leaned her against the wall opposite the sink. He turned on the tap, testing the temperature to make sure the pipes weren’t still crossed.

When Gendry turned back to her, fingers icy, she was gone. Before he even realized she was on the floor in front of him, he felt her running her palm along the hard outline of his cock through his trousers. Gendry choked on his saliva, knees bumping her. He stilled her hands.

“Just let me blow you.” Her fingers moved freely in his grip, still undoing his belt. “C’mon you’re my best mate. I won’t tell.”

“Arya, for all I know, you’re high on crack.”

“I’m not on cra-ck,” she somehow broke the word into two syllables, “I just want to su-ck your co-ck.”

Arya laughed and the sound went straight to his cock, along with her words and the image of her on her knees. Gagging for it.

Against his better judgment, he let her hands go. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, just looking at her. She had the same pinched look on her face that she so often mocked him for.

“Okay.” Arya’s expression brightened again and she pulled his cock free from the waist band of his boxers. One touch of her hand had him embarrassingly close to the edge, but he could only feel so chagrined. She was _Arya_ _fucking_ _Stark_ after all.

Arya spit on his cock, running her hand along his length experimentally. She flicked her wrist as she near the head and tightened her grip as she moved back towards the base, learning his responses.

She hadn’t asked to jerk him off though, and she seemed eager to get on with it. After less than a minute of that, she dove in, taking as much of him as she could manage on her first go. She bobbed her head and worked her soft, little hand over the rest of him in rhythm.

She choked around him, gagging, but didn’t pull back even as he saw her eyes watering. The head of his cock bumped over and over against the entrance of her throat, fleshier than her mouth, softer than the inside of her cheeks.

Arya shot him an aroused look, eyelashes casting a dark shadow over her eyes and cheeks.

Without his leave, his hips jerked upwards and he felt himself slip down her throat.

She let him stay there for a moment, humming around his cock even as she shifted in discomfort.

Arya pinched his thigh and he lessened the pressure on her head. She drew her mouth off his cock, cheeks hollowed. Once her mouth was free, she licked a long stripe up the side and ran her tongue over the head, forcing a groan out of Gendry. Arya licked his balls then, string of spit following her as she pulled back.

“Maiden Above.”

“Come on my face.”  _Gods._  “Wait no, come on my tits.”

Arya pulled down the skinny straps of her top, giving him a good look at her breasts. His knees gave out under him. Gendry had seen her in swimsuits and bras, wet t-shirts just thin enough for him to see her nipples respond to the cold, but never naked. Not in the waking world.

He scrabbled against the sink, desperate to stay upright. One of his hands gripped the faucet while the other stayed planted on the back of her head. She enveloped him again.

“Arya,” her head bobbed up and down and he realized he was still holding her on his cock, “Arya, can I touch—can I touch your tits?”

His hand fell away from her head and she released him with a pop. She smiled, lips red and shiny with his pre-come.

“Yeah!” Arya got off her knees, skillful left hand dropping to work his cock. She stepped in between his legs and looked up at him through her lashes. He was as close to her tits as he figured he would get, though given their significant height difference he still felt miles too far away.

At least from this angle he could actually see her nipples rather than just feel the hard points rub against his calves through his jeans as he held onto to the sink for dear life.

The sink. He weighed the risks and shrugged, hefting Arya up.

He scooted back onto the sink, lifting her into his lap and prayed the shitty porcelain monstrosity wouldn’t collapse under their weight. Arya wrapped her arms around his neck for balance. On her knees, in his lap, he was at last eye level with the objects of his obsession. And Gods were they worthy of obsession.

Reverently, he raised his left hand to cup her right breast. Her left breast had a piece of magenta confetti stuck to the sweaty skin just above her nipple. His tongue flicked out, pulling the plastic away before circling her nipple. Gendry rolled his tongue, working it into a hardened point.

Eager for more, and impatient for sensation, Arya ground her clothed pussy against his weeping cock. The rough denim against bare, sensitive flesh was a bit much for Gendry to stand.

Mouth on her right breast, hand on her left, he let his free hand fall between her thighs. He used his thumb to press the seam of her jeans into her clit. Arya moaned, long and low, hips canting up into his touch.

Gendry let Arya’s wet nipple fall from his mouth and puckered his lips, blowing cool air over the sticky skin. Arya moaned again, the sound keening and high. She was working herself against his hand, hips jerking. Her tits bounced in his face and coming in his pants, so to speak, was quickly becoming a real concern.

If he was going that way, he needed Arya to come with him.

Gendry popped the button on her jeans and slid down her zipper, and had just slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her knickers when she seized his arm with both of her hands.

“Gendry, no.”

“Let me.” Gods, he wanted to kiss her.

“I’m on my period.” He chuckled.

“It’s fine, Arya. I won’t finger you, just let me—,” Gendry caught himself and his blood ran cold, “Arya, I’m sorry. Hey,” her nails dug into the forearm of the hand that had tried to force its way into her pants, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. So fucking sorry.”

“Stop it! Stop it, you’re going to spoil it! I don’t want you to be sorry or to stop, I just don’t want you to—,” Gendry tried to pull his hand from her belly again, cock softening against his own belly, but Arya was having none of it, “I don’t want you to think I’m gross.”

“You’re not gross, Arya. I’ve washed your bloody knickers before,” Gendry stroked her hair, “But you are uncomfortable and I’m not going to force you…Arya, I’m sorry.” She slumped in his lap, arms going back around his neck.

“I ruined it, didn’t I? Because I said no.”

“Absolutely not, Arya. You say no, and you say it fucking loud. Don’t ever let some arsehole put his hands on you if you don’t like it. Even if the arsehole is me. Especially if the arsehole is me.”

“Well, if you’re not mad at me, let me finish you off.” Arya looked down and her face dropped as she saw he wasn’t hard anymore.

“I’m not sure I can get it up again,” he admitted, twisting a strand of shiny brown hair around his finger.

Arya pouted.

“I still want you to come on me.” She slid off his lap and pulled him away from the sink, reversing their positions. Arya hoisted herself up to sit on the sink. “Okay, new plan. I’m gonna sit here and get myself off and you’re gonna stand there and wank and then you’re gonna come on my tits. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, already feeling his cock rising to the challenge despite the lack of contact.

Arya wasted no time, clearly not having the same issues with touching herself as she had had with him touching her.

Gendry’s hand fell to his cock and he used her spit to work his cock. His thumb brushed over the head like her tongue had done.

He watched her fingers working through the fabric, knuckles tenting it as she slid through her slickness.

Her breasts didn’t bounce as they had when she was working herself over him, but they jiggled pleasantly, nipples jutting out.

Arya threw her head back and slammed it into the scratched mirror with a bang that echoed through the room. Gendry’s first instinct was to go feel the back of her head for a bump, and steal some ice from behind the bar, but she paid her probable concussion no mind and he forced himself not to ruin this for her.

Every time he blinked, he saw the image of Arya on her knees inter-cut with this, her with her hand down her pants.

Her hips were jerking in minute little thrusts. She was close and so was he.

He stumbled closer, close enough that his rough exhalations sent the hair that wasn’t stuck to her forehead flying. He groaned, coming, and aimed his cock at her tits. He watched fascinated as a thick streak skimmed her breast, ending at her collarbone.

Her hand came up, pinching her come coated nipple and she came with a whine, mouth stretching open as her back arched even more. His energy flagged and fell forward, stopping himself from crushing her by throwing his hands out to catch himself against the wall behind her.

They both stared at each other, panting, as they came down. The sounds of the Maiden’s Day celebration raging on just outside the tiny room was what finally popped their little bubble.

She pulled up the straps of her top, sealing the come against her skin.  _Maiden Below._

“Wait, isn’t that Margaery’s?” Arya nodded, grinning cheekily. Gendry groaned. “Now,  _that’s_  fucking disgusting, Arya.”

“I’m disgusting? You’re the one that just came on an eighteen year old’s tits in a pub toilet.”

“You told me to!” Arya laughed, pulling his hands down from the wall. She zipped up his trousers and redid his belt for him, not meeting his eyes. “Hey. You’re okay, right? We—we’re okay?”

“Course.” Arya kissed the collar of his t-shirt, and spoke into the fabric, “You’re my best mate, aren’t you?”


End file.
